The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 297: Chapter 297

Isabelle POV:
“He’s gone, Isabelle.”
Carson’s words hit me like a physical blow, echoing in the chilling silence of the Drakhor stronghold. The swirling mists of the spirit realm, a constant reminder of Rowan’s disappearance, pressed in, suffocating me.
My hand instinctively went to my throat, a nervous gesture I'd developed in the past weeks since Rowan had left for the Bloodmoon territory and never returned.
Rowan, my arranged husband, the Magnus Alpha, was gone. "Rourke says there's no sign of him," Carson continued, his voice raw. "He’s vanished."
My carefully constructed composure shattered, the denial I’d clung to like a shield dissolving into the mists.
He’d promised. Promised he'd come back.
Promises, whispered in the moonlight, now broken like glass. "No," I breathed, the word lost in the spirit realm's whispers.
Carson's hand squeezed my arm, a gesture meant to comfort, but it only amplified the hollowness blooming inside me.
"I know how much he meant to you," he murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions. His words twisted the knife. “.. but he loved Catrina. “
The bitter truth, a secret I’d tried to ignore, settled coldly in my gut. And I… I loved Derek. A forbidden love, a betrayal, a dangerous flame flickering in the shadows of my duty.
It was a love born of loneliness, of shared grief, a love both dangerous and intoxicating.
“We have to go back, Carson." My Alpha's voice, though shaky, cut through the swirling mists.
"Warn the pack. Prepare." I looked at him, my loyal Beta, my friend, and knew, with a chilling certainty, that we would face this alone.
Together, yet alone.
Returning to the Magnus Packhouse was like entering a tomb. The familiar scent of pine and leather now echoed with Rowan’s absence. The pack was fractured, lost without their Alpha, their fear a palpable presence in the whispered conversations, the stolen glances.
I addressed them, forcing strength into my voice. “We will not falter. We will not fear. We will honor Rowan by fighting for what he believed in." But the words felt hollow, a lie I told myself as much as them.
The following days blurred. Endless meetings with anxious elders, their fear a constant drone.
Training sessions intensified, fueled by a desperate need to prepare for a threat we couldn’t name. Fragile alliances, built on suspicion and necessity, were forged with neighboring packs.
Each decision felt like a weight, each passing day a reminder of Rowan’s absence, the growing fear that he was truly gone.
Derek was a constant presence, his golden eyes filled with unspoken concern. He brought trays of food I barely touched, offered to shoulder responsibilities I fiercely guarded, attempted clumsy jokes that died in the heavy silence.
His presence, once a source of quiet strength, now felt like a constant reminder of the mate bond we couldn't share, the path not taken.
“I'm fine, Derek,” I’d snap, retreating behind my Alpha mask, the lie a bitter taste on my tongue.
The Mondragon pack, sensing my vulnerability, grew restless. Challenges to my authority, once veiled, became more brazen.
Carson, my Beta, his loyalty unwavering, urged caution. “They sense weakness, Alpha. They need reassurance.” But how could I project strength when I felt like I was shattering?
Maggie and Henri arrived a few weeks later, their faces etched with worry.
“We haven't heard from Catrina,” Maggie had said, her voice trembling. “She never returned...” Their shared grief for their missing daughter forged an unexpected bond between us, a silent understanding that transcended pack boundaries.
They poured their love into caring for Lucas, Catrina and Rowan’s son. He was a constant, bittersweet reminder of Rowan, his dark hair and amber eyes echoing the man I’d lost. Yet, his laughter, his infectious joy, was a spark of light in the darkness.
I found myself drawn to him, to their little makeshift family, a yearning for a connection, a sense of belonging, I hadn’t realized I craved.
I watched Maggie humming lullabies to Lucas, Henri patiently teaching him the names of the forest creatures, their faces softening with a love that ached within me.
This simple, unconditional love was something I desperately wanted, a yearning that intensified the forbidden nature of my feelings for Derek.
Five years crawled by, each season a marker of Rowan’s absence, each Alpha Summit a tense reminder of the fragile peace.
Rogue attacks escalated. I pushed myself relentlessly, driven by a need to protect the pack, to honor Rowan’s memory. The weight of leadership, of unspoken love, of a future I hadn’t chosen but was determined to face, was a heavy burden.
One cool autumn evening, five years after Rowan’s disappearance, I stood on the balcony of the Magnus Packhouse, the scent of pine and woodsmoke a familiar comfort.
Lucas, now five, a miniature echo of his father, chased after Maggie and Henri in the courtyard below.
A wave of protectiveness washed over me. I would protect this child, this pack, this world.
A twig snapped behind me. I turned, Alpha instincts on high alert. A figure emerged from the shadows, silver fur gleaming in the moonlight.
My breath hitched. It couldn’t be. But the scent, the familiar blend of pine and leather, whispered memories of stolen kisses, broken promises, a love lost, a destiny denied.
“Rowan?” My voice was barely a breath, a question, a prayer, a love that refused to be extinguished.
Jarrett, drawn by the sound of my voice, appeared beside me, his eyes wide with disbelief. He stared at the figure bathed in moonlight, a ghost from the past.
“You… you were… you were…” he stammered, his voice thick with awe.
“Dead?” Rowan finished his sentence, his amber eyes meeting mine, filled with a sadness that mirrored my own.
And as the world tilted, as five years of grief and longing crashed down on me, as the realization that he was back, that he was alive, that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope… a sob escaped my lips, a tear tracing a path down my cheek, a single word, a whispered prayer, echoing in the silence.
“Rowan.”
He looked at me, his amber eyes filled with a sadness I recognized, a weariness that mirrored my own.
Five years.
Five years etched on his face, in the lines around his eyes, in the set of his jaw.
He was no longer the carefree Alpha heir who had chased after scents and disregarded duty. He was… different. Haunted.
“Isabelle.” He spoke my name, his voice a low rumble, a ghost of its former warmth. He looked at Lucas playing in the courtyard below, a flicker of something – longing? Pain? – in his eyes.
“He’s… grown.”
"Five years, Rowan," I said, each syllable heavy, a marker of his absence. Five years of carrying the weight he’d left behind.
He nodded, his gaze still on Lucas, the child’s laughter a bittersweet melody. “Korvash told me. About the time… the shift.”
“Time shift?” Jarrett frowned, his brow furrowed with confusion.
Rowan’s gaze, intense, met mine. “He told me everything. About Damien. About Catrina. The sacrifice.” A silent conversation passed between us, a shared knowledge of darkness, of loss.
“It’s a long story, Jarrett,” I said, weariness settling deep in my bones. Five years of secrets and lies, of unspoken desires. “A story not yet finished.”
"Where is she?" Rowan’s voice was barely a whisper, his gaze searching, desperate. "Where’s Catrina?"
My heart ached for him.
“She’s… gone, Rowan.” The words tasted like ash. “After the battle… after you… the Drakhor Clan took her. She’s… she hasn’t woken up.”
“The Drakhor?” His amber eyes darkened with suspicion. “Why?”
“She collapsed after… after she defeated Damien,” I explained, the memory of the reports, the chilling details, sending a shiver down my spine. "Something about… a merging of souls. Lyra’s essence… They’re keeping her safe. Hoping she’ll… wake up.”
"Damien." He breathed the name, a chilling premonition in his voice. "He's not gone, is he?"
I shook my head, the fear a cold knot in my stomach. "He's out there, Rowan. And he's coming for her."
His jaw tightened, his amber eyes blazing with a fierce determination that ignited a flicker of hope within me.
"Then we have to find her, Isabelle," he said, his voice a low growl, the Alpha command reasserting itself. "We have to stop him. Before it's too late."